View allAll Photos Tagged intercom
* La Habana Vieja *
- Fundada por los españoles en 1519, La Habana Vieja es un barrio de La Habana y declarado Patrimonio de la Humanidad por la UNESCO. La Habana se encuentra en la costa noroeste de Cuba.
- Founded by the Spanish in 1519, Old Havana is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Havana lies on the northwest coast of Cuba.
- Fondée par les Espagnols en 1519, le quartier de La Vieille Havane a été reconnu au patrimoine mondial de l'UNESCO. La Havane est située sur la côte nord-ouest de Cuba.
Mars calling earth ... I get news that the Fantasy Faire in Second Life soon begins ... Please confirm ...
With [A & Y], Feral and wearing a Fallen Gods skin, Sponsor of Fantasy Faire 2018
A voice comes over the intercom, it's menacing whisper taunting the squad. Headquarters has been compromised.
There seems to be no more rest for the wicked, it's time to get into formation and play for the big leagues.
#teamcanada
--
UNIFORM
~Isil~ Pilot Survival Vest Mk2
~isil~ Survival Mask & Helmet
[SAC] M9 Pro Dual Pistol with Holsters
TonkTastic - Snood [Military]
TonkTastic - FDT Gloves [On Duty]
TonkTastic - Commando Sweater [BlackCamo/Urban/Woodland]
TonkTastic - B52 Pants [3 Colors Variation 5]
~Isil~ "The Aerie" Hangar
~isil~ AV-5 Spectre VTOL STEALTH GUNNER
What do you see??
I look at a somewhat stroppy red tabby tomcat (with an arched back) ; ))
(paws at bottom left and middle, the tail at the top right)
my contribution for Smile on Saturday - theme of November 24th, 2018: #Pareidolia
Happy Smile on Saturday, everyone!
I will be away for the weekend - so I might not be able to browse properly before Sunday (evening).
Thanks for taking the time to comment or / and fave - it's very much appreciated!
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Intercom of a company - seen in Venice
(... due to privacy I did blur the name of the company and of the firm owner, which were each engraved on the "eyebrows" of the "cat face")
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... ein etwas grimmiger, buckeliger Kater ??
(Pareidolie = das Phänomen, in Dingen und Mustern vermeintliche Gesichter und vertraute Wesen oder Gegenstände zu erkennen ... die kindliche Phantasie hat mich wohl nie verlassen ; ))
Gegensprechanlage eines Unternehmens - gesehen in Venedig (die Namen - Unternehmen links und Inhaber rechts - die auf den "Augenbrauen" eingraviert waren, habe ich unkenntlich gemacht)
“Please sit down Madam. The plane is about to take off!”
Well this was different. Someone didn’t seem to have got the message. You know, the one about staying in your seat and buckling up at the moment you're about to set off skyward. All of this was going on behind me and I didn't bother to look round to see who was causing the commotion. For all I knew the trouble maker was standing up to try and get a better signal so she could send her mates a selfie from the cabin.
A few moments later the captain's voice came over the intercom and he didn’t bother to disguise his irritation. “Everybody needs to sit down!” Everybody? Was there more than one of them now? Was someone having second thoughts at the last minute? “If I'm accelerating down the runway and you're standing up, you're going to have a terrible problem. Sit down!” He put a special emphasis on the last two words and repeated them twice. It was an interesting way to start the short flight to Dublin, and one I'd never experienced before. The captain always sounds so assured on an aircraft, but this one had evidently lost his aura of sangfroid. But at last it seemed the message had finally penetrated whoever's abnormally thick skull was holding us up and after a few more minutes, the plane raced along the runway. At this point, Ali and I always hold hands, just in case it's for the last time ever, but today I was travelling alone. I resisted the urge to reach across the empty middle seat and offer a clammy mitt to the young man hiding beneath the pair of enormous white headphones beside the aisle, and instead gazed out of the window as we headed out over the North Cornwall coast. There below was Newquay, with a series of well loved landmarks falling away to the west. Fistral, Crantock, West Pentire, Carter's Rocks, the Cow and the Calf, the bulky outline of St Agnes Beacon near home. All of my playgrounds. As we climbed through the clouds I started to think about the new playgrounds where I'd be spending my time in just a few more days from now. The seat belt signs were switched off and a disorderly queue for the toilets formed within seconds. Boarding had only been delayed by twenty minutes but that was plenty enough time for a number of passengers to swallow another pint of Guinness in the departure lounge before making their way to the gate.
Dublin is a place where a lot of people like to go for the craic, and today, a Friday afternoon, was no exception. There were at least two groups of young men as far as I could tell, and because a certain airline likes to charge extra for passengers to choose their seats, they weren't all sitting together. Just behind me, two guys in their early twenties, who I soon realised were complete strangers, struck up a conversation, and it was impossible not to listen to every word they said. One was from my old home town in Falmouth, the other from a village just a couple of miles from where I live now. The latter was on the first instalment of a double beano weekend. Dublin today, Amsterdam next Friday. He was very excited about it all. Party cities. I needed to have a lie down just thinking about it. Come to mention it, the last time I had a bit too much of the falling down nectar was in Amsterdam in the summer of 2018. I met up with a local photographer who had been hiking in Scotland at the same time as ourselves a few months beforehand, and it soon turned out that neither of us were really drinkers. After we'd taken a few photos around the city centre together we had some beer. Quite a lot of it actually. It's not often I'm singing “Love Really Hurts Without You” at the top of my voice at half past midnight on a tube station concourse. I was a bit delicate at breakfast the next morning.
The cabin crew began the in-flight service. At the same time, the pilot decided to make what may have been an important announcement, but I didn't hear a word of it, such was the clamour among the first five rows to part with six euros for a small can of lager. As you've just learned, I like a beer myself, but I can manage without any for the duration of a one hour flight, you know. Unless I'm in Amsterdam. One of the two young fellows behind me went from announcing he wouldn't be having a beer until he was in Dublin, to ordering three cans in a heartbeat. Although one of them was for his new friend. I thought that was rather nice.
The thing with these short flights is that not long after the noise from the engines changes and you're cruising away towards your destination at maximum altitude, the steady thrum loses an octave once more as you begin to descend. Maybe that's what the captain was trying to tell us. Maybe he was making sure the lady who'd caused some bother earlier was going to behave this time. Or maybe he was putting in an order for a can of Moretti too. Perhaps he needed something to steady his nerves after the earlier incident. For a while we floated beneath the azure sky above a white sea of cotton clouds, before plunging through them and back into the greys, sea blues and greens of autumn in Northern Europe. Below us lay the famous city, pierced down the middle by the River Liffey, the darker colours splashed with patches of weak yellow light that promised much for the adventure to come. To the south stood the Wicklow Mountains, stoical and silent, already receding into the darkening purple hinterland of a November afternoon. Ireland was calling, just as it always has done.
For many on board, Dublin was the end of the journey, those groups of young party people reforming on the ground and racing for the exit and the buses into the city. I had much further to go. Tonight I'd be three hours south of the capital in Cork, where my long since departed Grandad was born at the start of the last century, and where much of the family still lives. A few days spending precious time with loved ones who I hadn't seen for far too long, sharing stories and drinking endless cups of tea. And then later, after I could take no more tea I'd be here, sitting alone on a distant headland in the far west, much like I so often do at home. So familiar, yet so new to me. So wild and untamed in this extraordinary remote peninsula at the edge of the world where Europe finally gives way to the vast and unforgiving Atlantic Ocean. To come to a place such as this was worth every inch of the journey.
This door caught my attention, I saw that there was a part of it with the charm of the passage of time and at the same time I saw that modernity attached to the door with its intercom... so I thought I would photograph it, since I also liked the textures from that wall a little rough...
Have a happy monday!
Von der Fondamenta Foscarini, über die Calle del Cristo und die Fondamenta Malcanton gehen wir rechts über die Brücke in die Calle del Forno, wo diese entzückende Gegensprechanlage mit Augen-Klingeln zu sehen ist .. ;)))
Koordinaten: 45°26'04.9"N 12°19'23.4"E
Auf dem Campo S.Margherita machen wir im Restaurant beim Albergo Capon auf der Plaza eine kleine Pause.
Koordinaten: 45°26'03.5"N 12°19'25.9"E
Nach einem feinen Espresso geht es vorne links weiter über die Rio Tèra Canal zur Ponte dei Pugni und über den Rio de S. Barnaba, dann gleich links über die Fondamenta Gherardini landen wir direkt beim Museum von Leonardo Da Vinci auf dem Campo S. Barnaba.
Koordinaten: 45°25'59.4"N 12°19'29.6"E
From Fondamenta Foscarini, via Calle del Cristo and Fondamenta Malcanton, we turn right across the bridge into Calle del Forno, where you can see this enchanting intercom with its ringing eyes .. ;)))
Coordinates: 45°26'04.9"N 12°19'23.4"E
On the Campo S. Margherita we have a break in the Restaurant at Albergo Capon on the plaza.
Coordinates: 45°26'03.5"N 12°19'25.9"E
After a fine espresso, turn left at the front over the Rio Tèra Canal to the Ponte dei Pugni and over the Rio de S. Barnaba, then immediately left over the Fondamenta Gherardini and we are directly at the Museum of Leonardo Da Vinci on Campo S. Barnaba
Coordinates: 45°25'59.4"N 12°19'29.6"E
Desde Fondamenta Foscarini, por la calle del Cristo y Fondamenta Malcanton, gire a la derecha cruzando el puente hacia la Calle del Forno, donde podrá ver este encantador intercomunicador con sus ojos sonando .. ;)))
Coordenadas: 45°26'04.9"N 12°19'23.4"E
En el Campo S. Margherita tenemos un descanso en el Restaurante de Albergo Capon en la plaza.
Coordenadas: 45°26'03.5"N 12°19'25.9"E
Después de un buen espresso, girar a la izquierda en el frente sobre el Canal del Río Tèra hasta el Ponte dei Pugni y sobre el Río de S. Barnaba, inmediatamente a la izquierda sobre la Fondamenta Gherardini, donde encontramos el Museo de Leonardo Da Vinci en Campo S. Barnaba.
Coordenadas: 45°25'59.4"N 12°19'29.6"E
An old-fashioned wooden intercom, staring at visitors of Seodaemun Prison's torture cells. The prison was built by the Japanese occupying forces to arrest Korean freedom fighters.
The Chinese characters on the right say "Take more exercise, bear up under affliction", thanks to zealotmat for the translation.
‘Warning Warning, Experiment 12485 Tank breech’
The voice over the intercoms sounded as vault dwellers of Vault 120 scurried about looking for ways to contain the experiment and the hazardous fluids that spilled out from its tank.
‘Warning Warning Tank Breech radiation levels likely to be harmful to humans. Warning Warning’ Again the intercom voice shout as the lead scientists approached the room that contained the deep sea creatures they had injected with Human DNA over the last 150 years.
{.⋅ ♫ ⋅.}Vibes {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.}
╔══════Abnormality: Badlands——>> ══════╗
☽Abnormality Links ☆
Show everyone just how bad you today at Abnormality
☽ Items at Abnormality: Badlands ☆
((Krature))-Leader- Applier HUD for Riptide Tail
This tail is …I need a couch made out of this leather!...Okay maybe not actually! But I do love the texture of this. I can just imagine the feel of the leather looking at this tail!
It comes in the following Colors
☽—— Black
☽—— Blue
☽—— Pink
☽—— Dirty Black
☽—— Leather- Fatpack exclusive
Check out ((Krature))’s post on this!
[Floro]- Mekanisk Exosuit- Featuring White Ocean
This Exo Suit is total fire! It gives me Kai’Sa vibes from League of Legends in all the best ways.
This BOM & Materials suit has so much variety and ways to use it!
Here is some High Lights
☽—— Exopants
☽—— Exosuit
☽—— ExoLeotard
☽—— Gloves
☽—— Breast Cover
The colors come in two varities
☽—— Lights
☽—— Darks
Check out [Floro]’s post on this!
Paesia- Harrowing Visage- Featuring Bone
This newest release by Paesia is so freaking versatile. Demons, deep sea merfolk, Occultists, followers of eldritch gods, heck everyone who does dark fantasy can make some kick ass looks using this!!
☽ Items (Not at Event) ☆
Head- Bespoke- Deep Sea Siren
Body- Maitreya- Lara Flat Chest
╚══════Abnormality: Badlands——>> ══════╝
6th March 2017:
Wet, cold and miserable out so I looked around the apartment for inspiration.
Not sure if this inspired me, but I liked how it came out. It's the cable to the intercom phone.
Better viewed large and thank you for your favourites. :O)
DAY NINE Todays picture was taken recently on a day trip to Whitstable on the north Kent coast.
Woke around 2am by a restful Carys again, we slept most of the rest of the night together on the couch in the nursery, she woke at 5.20am and played quietly with her Friesian cow which she has grown quite attached too and she keeps pushing it into my face to share the experience with me, what a good sharer. Today she suckles at from Sarah at 6am.
6.20 I attempt a quick nap, but I’m called to get Carys again, no luck there, I’ll be fully awake at 9am and then it’ll be too late for a nap, but I’ll feel tired after lunch, just when Carys is high as a kite.
6.25am Find Carys in her nursery quietly entertaining herself with “Drawer Emptying”, a solo pastime which involves throwing all her neatly folded (not ironed) clothes onto the floor, sometimes she may put a few back into the drawer, but this is only when she is running out of things to empty, it’s just to replenish her own fun really.
6.30 Carys is banging her new £12-Reduced-From-£18 shoes violently (she does everything heavy handed) on the floor.
6.45am I prepare double pear and weetabix for Carys’ brekky, but Carys has disappeared, she’s not anywhere in the kitchen or lounge, nor even her nursery, I look at the open door that leads to upstairs, oh dear I bet she’s up there – she is, half way up standing up on a stair grinning, chuffed with her mischief making. What if she fell, on my head it would be, what responsibility? And they’d put it in the Evening Standard – “BABY KILLER!, Man in £300,000 yuppie flat lets baby fall down stairs, callous Labour voter Steffan MacMillan tortured his baby repeatedly over… ” and on it would go and then I’d go to jail for it and they’d probably put me on the Child Abuser wing in a cell with someone called Bummerdog or somebody like that…
7am Sarah spoon feeds brekky to Carys from a metal teaspoon, which is devoured quickly, her arms resting at her side, her only body movement being her mouth opening like a fish. It can’t be too long until she makes the step up to 1.5 weetabii can it?
7.20am Carys plays ‘Emptying Nappy Sacks’ out of the scented nappy sack container, I constantly have to keep an eye on her, this incapacitates me from doing my chores, such as washing dishes or wiping the floor. This is quickly followed by rounds of ‘Emptying Wet Wipes’, and ‘Climbing Up Green Leatherette Armchair”, all fun for her, but would get me in the Evening Standard at worst or stop me from choring at best.
It seems Carys may be left handed, she uses her right hand to grip onto an edge, and uses the left to discard whatever she can grab, what would have happened to her in the Evil Soviet Union of Baddies? Would they have taken her away from us and‘train’ her to be right handed with electro shock treatment? How will she ever use a camera properly, they’re all designed for right-handers, we’ll have to go to special ‘Left Hander’ shops, it’ll be like being blind, will they give us a special dog? Oh god please let her be right handed, oh the shame on the family! What will they say back in Wales! we’ll just make sure she keeps her hands in her pockets every time we go visiting.
7.50am Sarah tries Carys’ new shoes on again, as she is in a good mood she may forget that she’s wearing the - nope she cries, she tries to scrape them off. Is this another monumental waste of money along with the playpen, swimming lessons and the Mothercare ‘black out’ blind? Can she go shoeless all her life like they do in Fiji?
8.15am Sarah departs for work, and leaves me with a shopping list (washing up liquid, bleach, toilet roll, fruit and vegetables), a cheque for all the mortgage and a list of playgroups we can go to today, I am revved up and ready to tackle the Peckham Librarty playgroup at 10 am-12 noon.
I don’t know what to do about my voicebox having a split personality, when in the house when with Carys it seems to jump an octave higher and my Welsh Valleys accent becomes a lot stronger, it resembles that female character in the Rentaghost TV show from 20 something years ago. But in public voicebox becomes himself again, deeper with a more clipped generic Welsh accent. It seems I have no control over this toing and froing, what if my Rentaghost accent takes over and becomes the norm? This split personality must confuse Carys, what will she think? That it’s normal to for your voice to behave in two different ways depending on what room you’re in? This is no good for no one.
8.30am I put Carys to nap, quite easily today not like yesterdays episode.
8.40am I do a spot of re-touching on the actress lady, and now all three shots should be given the big thumbs up.
10.06am Carys wakes from her nap, I know this from listening to her on the intercom fridge sounding device from Tomy, I go down and she is there standing up in her cot waiting to be retrieved, she has a big smile on her face when I enter the nursery, this warms my heart.
10.40am We head out for Peckham Library playgroup, I get there and am the only man in a large group of mums and babies, I feel out of place, they’re all singing, I join in with my groaning murmer. The playgroup leader races through all the songs, I slowly edge out of the circle so I don’t have to shout ‘snake’ or anything daft like that. After about 15 minutes another bloke comes in, thank god for that, he even sits next to me, suddenly I feel my groaning becoming melodic and my back straightens, are the wonderful bosom of manhood, we even have eye-to-eye-contact, albeit one of those accidental fleeting ones, the type of glance that sometimes happen on the tube. Carys is shy and she keeps hugging me close. The singing ends at 11.33am and the leader brings out a big box of toys, the kids rush round to it like Ethiopians picking up airdrops, Carys and I depart quietly, can’t be bothered making friends with the people here, as I have to rush back home before Carys gets hungry, I could give her mushy food in public, but where is there nice and clean to sit around this part of Peckham? Probably somewhere, but I don’t know of it, next to Knife Sharpeners or down besides the Pie N Mash shop, or sitting above the Big Girl fashion shop?
11.45am Arrive home for lunch, Carys eats banana, today holding the entire fruit in both hands and eating it like a grown-up, she refuses all different kinds of mush aswell as chipolatas and pear chunks. The banana is polished with a small fromage frais, which she has never refused, it’s a banker. I eat my hastily one handed (Carys is in my left hand) prepared lunch of left over couscous and left over lamb shoulder, gone are the days of my 12 ingredient sandwiches with various side garnishes.
12.30am Carys plays quietly and I wash dishes, kitchen surfaces and some of the floor, this is the best time to do chores as Carys is content to play on her own for about an hour.
1.50pm We go over to Harry Moody for a bit of swing action, I push her quite high and she is in fits of laughter, it’s a lot of fun watching someone else enjoy themselves so much.
2.10pm Thence we depart for Telly Hill park (South) and I put Carys’ new shoes on, she crawls off in them, scuffing the tips all along the floor, she then grabs a baby-walker and walks like I do when wearing ski jumping skis – very awkwardly. She hasn’t worked out how to swivel baby-walker devices to turn and avoid hazards inn her road, she ends up shunting into the side of a car, a two year old boy cannot get out of his car and shouts at Carys ‘go, go, go’ Carys’ face crumples and so I rescue her, she sits on my lap for the next 10 minutes just watching the other kids. I meet an émigré called Felix, from Paris and 26, he’s with his half Congolese daughter, a nice chap, we arrange to ‘see you around’, that’s’ like saying ‘let’s be friends partner’ in 70’s speak. The play leader tells me off for taking the pram onto the playing surface. Everyone is friendly here and I make eye-to-contact with a few more of the parents.
3.pm Playgroup ends and everyone heads for the small playground next door, it’s all built in chunky wood, to resemble a junior adventure park, perhaps to lull the kids into thinking they’re being adventurous? Shame only two swings here, now I know why the two fat ladies were hanging out by the gate in the playgroup, so they could get to the wings first – bitches. Meet a german dad on the way out, he has a new bike and I complement him on it, I have a long chat with him too, his name is Enkle, from down near the Swiss border, he keeps barking orders in Swiss German to his 2 year old son Anton, we also agree to ‘see you around’, wow two friends in an hour, this is the place to pick up dads indeed. Great to talk to other blokes, didn’t realise how much I missed that interaction this past 10 days.
4pm As we are going home Carys cries, I intuitively know that it must be her shoes that are bugging her, I am right, no tears after they come, off, she then tears her socks off, I wouldn’t have known that just two weeks ago, I would have probably thought her tears were because of half a dozen other things first, like nappy, hunger, chill, bored, uncomfortable etc.
4.03pm Sarah is at home, she takes over Carys while I prepare din dins, carys has avocado, pear and sweet potato mush which is mostly eaten, she discards her chipolata and pear chunks, Sarah and I have fish and vegetables for our din dins, then Carys joins in and tries to eat Sarahs food, but she just wants to chuck it down on the floor too. Carys is very similar to my grandmother’s old dog Llawen, in that he would never eat anything out of his own bowl, but only wanted human food that was tossed to him from the table, the same went for his drinking habits too, Llawen would quite often ignore the drinking water in his private metal drinking bowl and lunge for any cup that placed on the floor, his amazing telescopic tongue would just suck up half a cup of luke warm tea in a split second, then he’d slouch off sometimes with a victory belch on the way.
5.30pm After lifting Carys from her high chair we discover a pile of food that she had hidden beneath her, very crafty way of getting out of eating, I used to think it was just dropped, but the pile is getting bigger and bigger.
Vecchio interfono fuori uso. Monocromo naturale. Old intercom out of order. Natural monochrome. Dettaglio. Detail. Bologna 2016.
P.S. There is a bug near the upper left corner of the Oracle, use the + lens if you like. I didn't noticed it before posting the shot, only after. Quantum Physics joke? :-))
09-08-2013
Madrid
MARCA ESPAÑA SERIE
BRAND SPAIN SERIES
Please, do not use this photo without permission
Por Favor no usar esta fotografía sin permiso
I noticed this rather antiquated intercom system as I walked past the Bank of England the other week. It's these little urban details that make London such a great city for photography.
The first of my new building project: "Secret Weapons of the Luftwaffe".
The Focke-Wulf Project 8 was the last of the Luftwaffe's secret bomber projects. The development of this revolutionary design was crippled by supply issues as Germany's industrial production ground to a halt in the latter stages of the war.
I'll post separate images of the aircraft itself shortly.
Built in 1921, this Belgian thermal power plant of Electrabel (originally Intercom) produced enormous quantities of energy from coal. Responsible for 10% of the CO2 emissions in Belgium, the factory was definitively closed in 2007.
Spread on about ten hectares, the site is formed by the main building (with a recent and two old turbines), a cooling tower and the offices. Today, the power plant is the property of the WANTY company, and many urban explorers from all around the world come to see it (especially its cooling tower).
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Construite en 1921, cette centrale thermique d'Electrabel (originalement Intercom) située en région wallonne produisait d’énormes quantités d’énergie à partir de charbon. Responsable de 10% des émissions de CO2 de Belgique à elle-seule, l’usine a été fermée définitivement en 2007.
Étendue sur une dizaine d'hectares, cette centrale est notamment formée d'un bâtiment principal et d'une tour de refroidissement, auxquels se rajoutent des bâtiments administratifs et une annexe munie d'une turbine de secours construits dans les années 60. Aujourd'hui la propriété de la société WANTY, cette centrale et surtout sa tour de refroidissement sont la proie d'urbexeurs venant du monde entier.